


The Sun Will Rise

by WhoKnowsNow



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: (Mostly) Platonic Cuddling, Cuddles, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Platonic Cuddling, Post-Nogitsune, Post-Nogitsune Stiles Stilinski, Post-Season/Series 03, Sad, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-30
Updated: 2015-01-30
Packaged: 2018-03-09 16:13:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3256262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhoKnowsNow/pseuds/WhoKnowsNow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Nogitsune Stiles is not the same and Derek is pretty messed up too. They try to help each other make it to tomorrow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sun Will Rise

His stomach is caving in. It hurts. It feels dark like death. There’s nothing he can do, though. He tries his best to stave off the pain, the anxiety, the panic. Stiles knows he needs control, that one moment of weakness could ruin everything he’s worked for, but it doesn’t make the deep breath sting any less. It doesn’t help him pull over to the side of the road to prevent himself from crashing the car, from crashing mentally. The “I wanna go home.. I want to go- I want to go home- I can’t- oh god. I can’t do this anymore- please- Mom- Mommy please- I wanna- I need to go-” that he registers as his own voice, like a shrill sob echoing throughout the car, stings, stabs at the already-raw open wound that is his body.

The scream rips from his throat before he can stop himself. He punches the steering wheel and hits his head hard enough to bruise the pale skin. All he wants is to put the car in drive and ram it into a tree, flip it over the road barrier. Maybe that would stop the fucking terror that he can’t shake; the demon that’s been personally assaulting him for years.

Stiles is always pretending. Always acting like he’s okay when in reality nothing is. Some days feel better than others: he’s safe, everything is fine. Other days it’s like the entire world is ending, detonating, and he’s being smothered by the debris. His body aches. He’s got weights dragging him down and they get heavier with each attempt to surge forward. How can he escape the pain? How can he maintain the lie? He can’t. Catastrophe is inevitable.

He takes a breath, deep and shaky, and releases as he shifts into drive. He can make it to the house. He can get that far. It’s no monumental victory, but it’s a step, granted, it’s a weighed-down step, but he isn’t fully crushed. Not yet.

 

  
  
Derek is there when he gets home. Sitting on the bed that has recently become shared space. Neither of them wants to be alone anymore, but it’s not like they talk much about the arrangement. They lay in silence, cuddle sometimes, until one of them drifts into sleep and the other relaxes listening to the slow inhales and exhales, watches the rise and fall of the other's chest, and fall into sleep as well.

Stiles can hardly move. He stumbles out of the Jeep, the only thing he has left of his mother, onto the hard pavement. The crawl-shuffle to the front door that should be painful is merely numb to a man who has known nothing but pain since his body was willed to work against him. Since it was used to hurt people he cared about.  
He makes it upstairs to where Derek is waiting. With one look he can tell that Derek knows. It’s not hard to see how broken Stiles is anymore. The once bubbly, energetic boy is now a shell of the good man he could have been. 

Before either of them realizes it, they are together in a smothering embrace, one that they have only shared once the darkness of night has blanketed the sky. It is still silent; neither of them have anything useful to say to fix the agony that lingers in the air around them. They can be weak together, support each other. Life is hard enough as it is, at least this way they can be miserable with together.   

Stiles pulls off his hoodie, khakis, and converse as Derek does the same with his leather jacket, jeans, and boots. He pulls down the comforter and, without a sound, they climb both in. Stiles puts his head on Derek’s chest and sobs quietly while Derek rubs his back. Once there are no more tears to be shed, the two curl up together for another night of labored rest. Stiles falls asleep first this time, crying tends to wear him out. Derek drifts off not long after, soothed by the peace on Stiles’ face that, nowadays, is filled with anguish.

It’s not a perfect arrangement and it will never be perfect. All they can ask for is something better and maybe they can manage that.  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys. If you let me know what you thought whether it be comments or kudos it would totally make my day. If not thanks just for reading!
> 
> I don't own Teen Wolf or any of the characters in the show, though I cherish them dearly.
> 
> Talk to me on tumblr at secondhand-and-broken.tumblr.com or my Sterek tumblr: fissionfever.tumblr.com


End file.
